Sherlock meet Sherlock
by Oddette
Summary: what would happen if Sherlock Holmes met Sherlock Holmes? silly little crossover I wrote a while ago. HolmesxWatson SherlockXJohn. Rated T for safety. Please read and review! (to be rewritten/improved shortly!)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

_Holmes and Watson = film. Sherlock and John = series _

JOHN:

When I woke up that morning I knew that something beyond the ordinary was going to happen in that despite Sherlock's requests earlier this week the phone was ringing before seven am on a Sunday morning. We all know it is beyond rude to call someone on a Sunday before 9 unless it is an emergency, and Sherlock was a firm believer in such rule. Which explains my rush to answer the blasted thing; unfortunately while I was rushing I tripped over the coffee table and caught my eye on the sofa. It was both painful and bruising to my face. When I eventually crawled from the floor and stopped screaming I answered the phone and on the other end a rather concerned Lestrade spoke in a tired voice.

"John? We are going to need you and Sherlock here." I could hear him run a hand through his hair "Right now." And then he broke away from the phone slightly and spoke to presumably someone else in the room "No you can't have it. It's a phone; don't they have phones where you come from? You use it to phone people."

"What's going on?" I asked and I could hear him struggling with something (or someone) before replying.

"Just get over here"

"Who is it? Is it the other John? If that is even your real name? You have a peculiar sense of either humour or self importance to be so brash as to impersonate my dear Watson you know" An unknown man snapped down the phone to me and I flinched at both the new voice's anger and odd accusation.

"Mr Holmes please calm down." Lestrade addressed the unknown man then turned his attention back to hem "John drag Sherlock out of bed and get here now" Lestrade put down the phone. I didn't want to annoy poor Lestrade any longer, he seemed to have a lot on his plate, and so went to wake Sherlock. Who was of course not actually asleep, just skulking about in his room.

SHERLOCK

When John came into my room this morning he looked even more of a mess then he normally does, his greying hair was standing almost completely on end and he was paler than normal. Something must have happened, either this morning or last night.  
"Lestrade called" John said in a confused sort of voice. A rather cute voice I must point out. Not that I would ever admit it out loud.

"What's he struggling with now?" I chuckled slightly and climbed down from my vantage point (i.e. the wardrobe), watching John's eyes quickly scan my body before he continued. I have always wondered why he looks at me with such lingering glances; I have never yet deduced what that is. I would like to find out one day, I like to think he looks at me that way because of the reasons I look at him.

"By the sound of it, he has some people claiming I'm a fraud"

"What?" I cried, leapt out of bed and stood beside John who flinched and looked up at me and shrugged.

"I have no idea what's going on Sherlock but I think we should find out"

I nodded and ran a hand through my hair before rushing to my dresser, after John's firm discussion last week I knew that . I grinned as John went red while I changed. He always did. When he went red he looked almost like a fawning school girl. Well it's what they say about the army. Possibly homosexual and the ability to hold a gun are the only qualifications. Oh and of course in John's case the ability to sew up wounds. I chuckled to myself and turned around to see John looking away, even his ear were red. He mumbled something about getting dressed himself and fled the room.

HOLMES

I was fed up with the incompetent men and women who dared call themselves inspectors. And I had thought that Lestrade was unbearable but these people weren't even dressed adequately and refused to believe I am myself. Which was ridiculous beyond belief. And the final straw was when the man called for who he deemed the 'real Sherlock and John'. I snatched the 'phone' off of him and spoke to this impersonator. This imposter. How dare someone impersonate my dear John and myself too! When the phone was taken away from me I sat down besides Watson with a huff. Watson smirked at me and pretended to be calm. I could see he was much less calm than he was letting on. His smile was too forced and his knuckles were almost white on his cane. He was also biting his fingernails which he only did when he was nervous or worried about something.

WATSON

I watched Holmes carefully. I never liked it when he was angry. He was normally either happy or depressed he was very rarely angry, sure he snapped at people and ran away from people and tried to shoot me more than once. But I know he wasn't angry, just displeased. Holmes sat down beside me and I forced a smile. I didn't know what was going on but I didn't like it. Who was this other John? Could it be a pure coincidence that there was another John Watson who was a doctor and in the army? And lived with Sherlock Holmes who also claimed to be the only consultant detective… so maybe it was an improbable explanation.

"Could it be a coincidence?"

"Impossible"

"Not impossible Holmes. Improbable." Holmes glowered at me for using his own words back at him. I decided to shut up. I preferred to stay on Holmes' good side. That way I didn't end up with a bullet in my shoulder or a knife in my leg. Which Holmes did far too often. I would wonder to myself why I stayed living with this man then I would remember why. Because I loved him. I patted his shoulder and lent back in my chair.

JOHN

I hailed a cab and waited for Sherlock who was talking to Mrs Hudson about something. I climbed into the cab and Sherlock joined me within minutes. He told the man to step on it. My heart jumped into my throat as we sped down the road and I buckled up his then my own seatbelt. Safety first after all.I bit my nails nervously and ran my hand through my hair, my heart beating loudly in my ears. Who were these people who thought they were us? I swallowed and wondered what the other John looked like. Maybe he was from a parallel universe like in doctor who! That would be rather awesome I decided and allowed myself to relax slightly, leaning back against the cool seat. Sherlock's arm was across the back of the seat and I found myself moving closer to him. He was so… nice smelling and warm. He didn't seem uncomfortable so I relaxed into him. He was surprisingly comfortable. I could get used to this.

SHERLOCK

John lent against me during the ride there. I knew that getting John up early would lead to him being more cuddly than usual. I let him. He smelt nice and was soft. So I didn't mind him leaning on me. He was warm. The taxi driver sped around the corner at about 95 mph and when we finally arrived I was rather relieved John had done up my seat belt. I sometimes wondered what I would do without him. After all it's nice to have someone looking after you and watching your back. And incredibly useful too. I jumped out the cab and ran up the steps, knowing John would follow eventually, and raced up to the front desk. A young woman sat there chewing some gum, strawberry by the smell and colour, her hair pulled into a tight pony tail and her expression one that could only be described as bored out of her mind. I could tell she did not plan on working as a receptionist.

"We were sent for" She looked me up and down and shrugged, and, without asking for any papers, let John and myself in.

HOLMES

I could hear footsteps. I sat up straight and looked to the glass door where a tall man stood. The inspector stood up and opened the door almost gratefully. The tall man stepped inside and his eyes flicked from me and the doctor for a while. He walked over to us and cocked his head. Behind him a shorter man entered the room and shyly inclined his head, his eyes also scanning us. I could tell these were the other 'Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson'.

From what I could deduce the shorter of the two was the doctor, he had the military air and also the slight difference in stance which showed an injury of some sort to his person, most likely picked up in war. He wore a thick jumper and plain trousers, his shoes were practical and sensible and his face was etched with lines that I could have sat and read for hours. Pain, happiness and fear the main elements in this man's life. That was something I could be sure of. His greying hair was cut short and smart and he stood up straight – like a military man should.

The taller man was therefore the detective, his coat was clean however his trouser knees were frayed and the cuffs of his shirt were slightly stained. Probably from an experiment involving chalk and a form of explosive. The imposter Sherlock wore a coat that showed of a slender and elegant frame and his hair was dark- most likely dyed. I noticed how quickly his eyes were moving. I knew he was deducing what he could from my flatmate and me.

WATSON

Sherlock fell silent as soon as they entered the room. Beforehand he had been shifting and mumbling and grunting something incomprehensible. As soon as they entered I knew he would be scanning them, deducing what he could. I sat back and watched his eyes flick over them. The two men stood staring at us, the shorter man smiled shyly at me briefly before turning his head away slightly. I smiled quickly at him and tapped my cane impatiently, waiting for Holmes to speak up.

_JOHN_

I looked at the two men and swallowed. Both were good looking men with traditionally good-looking faces and apparently VERY traditional dress sense. The man nearest me, the one holding a cane, wore a top hat and a Victorian style suit, even his cane was Victorian. The other man was scruffier, with a dirty looking face and his hair a mass of knots and curls. He scanned me briefly and I could almost see the cogs in his mind turning. I looked away from the penetrating stare and looked to the other man who I smiled to briefly. He returned the tight smile then looked at the floor, tapping the top of his cane with pale hands.

_SHERLOCK_

The shorter man was sitting on the very edge of his seat. His hair was dark and scruffy and his face was covered in what appeared to be mud but not any from nearby. Both men wore genuine Victorian clothes. The taller of the two was smartly dressed and held a cane. He was obviously a military man, by his posture and stance, so I deduced this was Dr John Watson. Dr John Watson was taller than the other man, who Isupposed was the detective, and slightly older. He was looking at the detective as if he admired him. Possibly even loved him. The detective stared at me for a while, his eyes roaming constantly over my body, he was inspecting me as I was inspecting him.

Lestrade cleared his throat and I turned to look at him. All the others did the same.

"Sherlock. These two came in here in the early hours of the morning demanding to know what was going on. They told us they were…well you and demanded to know where Inspector Lestrade is… I tried to explain I was Lestrade but neither of them will have it"

"If you are Lestrade then you are not the Lestrade the doctor and I are  
looking for," the detective said coolly, and glowered at Lestrade slightly. "I am Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, and this Dr.  
John Watson, my right hand man and a doctor. I am speaking the truth, and I  
hardly have time for this incompetence. If you don't mind, I would like very  
much to speak my Lestrade now-he may be an idiot but at least he knows who I  
am," the detective spoke coolly and calmly; meeting my eyes as often as he  
spoke.

I looked for signs in his face he was lying, but there were none. Either I was losing my touch or he was telling the truth. I went with the latter.

HOLMES

I looked the other Sherlock in the eye and looked for any signs of doubt. There were several as I expected.

WATSON

I looked at the three men in front of us, not sure whether to trust any of them. I decided to wait for Holmes's deduction and decision.

JOHN

I moved slightly closer to Sherlock when I realised the other John had a sword in his cane. I swallowed and looked up at Sherlock who was still staring at the other Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

SHERLOCK

I decided to talk to the other Sherlock on his own. He looked like someone I could talk to properly, plus it would be fun to leave John with his alternate person. John had never looked so scared; he looked as if he wanted someone to hold his hand. As tempted as I was to hold his hand (for some bizarre reason) I told the others my plan and led the other Sherlock to the interview room. The other Watson stood to follow.

"Watson it is quite alright. I can look after myself thankyou" The other Sherlock smiled almost irritatingly cockily and the other Watson sat down. It was slightly creepy how he was obeying him so easily then I looked at my John who had also sat down, already aware he wasn't needed. It was odd to see another person behave so similarly to John. At least the other Sherlock wasn't embarrassingly weak and had some control over his assistant.

JOHN

I could have killed Sherlock. Or died on the spot. I sat down because my legs felt like jelly and watched both men leave. Leaving me alone with the other John.

"Um..." I miserably trailed off and looked at the handsome man before me. I had rather hoped he would be ugly or very short then at least I would have been the better looking John, but now I wasn't so sure. This John was very handsome..

"So…" He copied and smiled slightly, trying to be friendly. Something I always thought best.

"Are you married?" I attempted to start a conversation and he smiled almost gratefully.  
"Almost. I'm engaged to a young lady named Mary."

"I like that name."

"Me too…but… I'm not sure I will marry the girl" He shifted in his seat.

"Oh?"

HOLMES

I followed the other me into a small grey room. I did not like how he swept about the place as if he owned it. It was irritating. I was horrifically reminded of myself. I sat down opposite him and crossed my arms.

"What do you need to know" I asked, cutting to the chase. It was always the easiest and most useful method.

"How you got here."

"I walked."

"From where?"

"221B Baker Street. Where I live with my doctor."

"You can't have because I live there you see. Now you can see the complications"  
"Impossible. Unless…"

"Unless?"

"Well Moriarty did say he had a plan for us…"

"Moriarty hunts you too?"

"Of course! He hunts you?"

"Yes"

"I feel almost cheated on" I smiled and looked up at the other Sherlock who smiled back at me and sat down.

WATSON

I began to tell the other John everything. I didn't know why. There was something about that man that made me want to just tell him everything. It was like talking to myself in actual fact, I didn't really care how much he knew about me. It was like telling someone something they already knew. Which, I could tell by his face, was almost literal. I decided he must have similar feelings for his detective as I do mine.

"So… have you considered asking him out?" He asked me it so simply I couldn't quite believe it. I leapt across the table and covered his mouth.

"Be quiet you fool! You know it's illegal"

The other John took my hand away from his mouth

"Not here it isn't"  
"It isn't?"

"Nope. In fact men can get married now. And women."

"Really? I quite like it here" I found myself commenting, before sitting down on the seat next to him. He smiled and nodded.

"Yup. And you can adopt children. Providing they deem your situation appropriate"  
"Wow." I couldn't believe this man. It was too good to be true. But for some reason I knew he wasn't lying to me.

SHERLOCK

I watched the other detective carefully before asking him what day it was, this had to be the explanation.

"Don't be ridiculous. I know the date the same as you!"

"So you're aware it's 2011."

"Impossible!"  
"Not impossible" I corrected him. He nodded.

"Just improbable. I know. I tell Watson all the time."

"So do I" We sat in silence for a while before he spoke up

"So. What you're suggesting is.. Watson and I have travelled through time"

"Yes"

"Well then my dear. I need to get back home ASAP. Lestrade will die if I don't help him out. He really can be quite pathetic at times"

"I know the feeling" I replied and smiled as he left, quickly following him.

JOHN

This man was almost just like me. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders when I told him how I felt. He understood everything.

"Have you met Irene yet?"  
"Who?"  
"Apparently not. She's not a woman one could easily forget"  
"You say that so bitterly. Why?" I cocked my head, not liking the sound of this woman already.

"Sherlock loves her"

"Oh. I hope my Sherlock doesn't have an Irene. I wouldn't like him to in any case"

"I'm sure he will" Watson looked up from his cane and met my eyes "Just ignore it though. That's what I do"

I could tell that was a lie. His entire face had darkened, his smile was more forced and his eyes expressed a pain I had experienced far too many times. Heartbreak.

"I always assumed he wasn't capable of loving anyone. Which is why I didn't mind so much he didn't love me" John looked down to the floor, closing his eyes. I leant over and placed a hand on his shoulder; I squeezed it gently then smiled in an attempt to look cheerful.

"So make him love you. Now you know it's possible" John looked up at me again and smiled weakly.

"He's not into men"

"There are always exceptions" I lied. I couldn't tell who I was trying to reassure. I think we both needed reassurance.

HOLMES

When we entered the other room Sherlock's John had a hand on my John's shoulder. I wanted to snap his hand right off. How dare he touch my John. John was mine. No one else's. I would have casually slunk over and smacked it off if it wasn't for Sherlock who walked over and literally swept his John off his feet.

"Come along John. Lots to do" He yanked John out the room and I looked around to see my doctor laughing. Someone else made my John laugh. I pouted slightly and he smiled at me  
"Come on then old boy, I expect we will be needed" He spoke with sense and so we both followed. John still insisted on walking with that limp, not that I was complaining I personally found limps incredibly sexy, but it was illogical when he moved so fast without it. Although I had to say he could walk unbelievably fast with the limp. When we got outside the other two were standing at a grey street with lots of metal monsters speeding up and down it. Watson halted behind them and gestured to them.

"What are they?" the other John turned around in surprise and then smiled in understanding.

"Oh right yes because you didn't have them back then… These are cars. We use them to get to places fast. It's…an alternative to a horse and carriage" Watson nodded and turned to look at me. With his eyes he asked if I had heard all of it. I nodded. Not that it mattered, they looked rather harmless.

WATSON

I did not trust these 'cars'. When John hailed a 'Taxi' I slowly began to realise that they were just different versions of the cabs I used on a regular basis. That made all the difference. Except the speed they travelled that scared me now. John and his Sherlock climbed in first, I turned to look at Holmes who smiled cockily and climbed in. I shrugged and followed. If we all died, I was going to blame him.

JOHN

I sat down and the other Sherlock sat next to me. I was squished up between both Sherlocks. Which, I had to admit, wasn't such a bad thing. My Sherlock, how I wished I could call him mine, smelt of peppermint and coffee. I knew it was him who had stolen my candy cane. I made a mental note to get him to buy me a new one later. The other Sherlock smelt of cinnamon and tobacco, mixed in with a few other smells I did not recognise. Now we were in such close quarters I could also smell the faint aroma of opium from the doctor, which was not a terribly bad smell. I tried to stop focusing on the smells after a while, I wasn't sure whether or not it was the peppermint or the tobacco or the opium but I was beginning to feel light headed.

I leant back in my seat and looked around at my fellow travellers once more, I liked how the doctor sat, so upright and formal it was almost as if he felt someone was watching him. It dawned on me that it was true someone was looking at him and quickly averted my eyes. Sherlock was looking at me, his eyes were so bloody penetrating, like he could read my mind and stare into the very depths of my soul. I shifted uncomfortably and he met my eyes. I almost literally melted, god I loved those eyes so much it was unreal. I smiled weakly and he brushed a stray hair out of my face, for a few seconds he held my gaze and smiled that rare but beautiful smile of his. His real smile. I knew I was in love, I could feel it in my stomach. The feeling was so strong, it just had to be. But then his hand left my face and he turned to look out the window. I shook myself and turned to face the other two men, who were leaning close to each other, whispering something, their eyes locked onto each other's

SHERLOCK

I didn't like the feeling I got when I met John's eyes. It made my stomach do flips and made it impossible for me to form proper sentences. I quickly looked away; out the window seemed the best option. I began to visualise London in 1861, I wondered what it looked like, if anything had changed dramatically. I looked at the Baker Street sign, knowing we were so close to home, and wondered how Baker Street had changed. I decided that it can't have, not dramatically if we all lived at 221b.

HOLMES

I looked John in the eyes

"John, when we get to their apartment, I want you to have snoop in their bedrooms; tell me anything you find suspicious. I'm going to have a look in the bathroom. Hell, you could even ask Mr. Watson here for a tour," I whispered; meeting those beautiful eyes once again. He nodded and lent closer; a wisp of his greying hair brushing my forehead. I lent closer, leaning my forehead against his and we both paused in that position. I don't know about him but I was rather comfortable like that.

"What if they're dangerous Sherlock? What if this is all Moriarty's plan?"

"If it is it's rather elaborate. I don't think they are lying to us John." I reassured my nervous companion, and sat up straight. He sat up too and gave me a half smile, one of his genuine half smiles. I looked away quickly, his smile made my heart jump in a truly terrifying way.

WATSON

When we arrived the 'car' door swung open and I nearly toppled out onto the street. I stood up and straightened up my jacket, and smoothed down my trousers before turning to look at Holmes and the others who were all climbing out of the 'car'. The man who had been turning the wheel in the front was holding out his hand to me. I peered at it. Why on earth was this man showing me his palm? Just then John appeared and put a strange piece of paper like material in the man's hand. He got back in the 'car' and drove off. I stood on the grey road for a while until John yanked me onto the lighter grey pathway. A gigantic 'car' zoomed past us, if I had been standing there I would have been flattened. I turned to thank John who just smiled and beckoned me to follow.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Sorry for any errors in the storyline. They are all accidental and due to the fact I don't treat my life as an essay. I wrote this for a bit of fun so I hope you get a bit of fun reading it __ Please read and review. the reason this took so long was because all last week I was in spain and had no internet access. Apologies xLottie xx_

_P.s yes this chapter is OOC even for me… but you know… :P _

SHERLOCK

It felt weird to invite myself into the flat, for some reason I was much politer than normal. I felt the need around the others; it was almost as if I felt the need to impress them. I'd very rarely felt this, the most recent time was when John returned from Mycroft's house (after an interesting Christmas party in which John had a little too much to drink) and still stayed in my flat, despite being offered an entire two floors at Mycroft's. I felt like I needed to convince him to stay, and so resisted doing any experiments for the next couple of days, until I felt he had gotten over the offer, then it was back to being me; something I much preferred.. John was talking in a low voice to the other John, and both were ignoring me and Sherlock. Sherlock looked rather annoyed and pulled John towards him, almost holding him in an embrace, a look of jealousy on his face. I could sense it from here. I held back a smirk, lucky I didn't get jealous. My John went into the kitchen, probably making his routine coffees or tea, depending on what kind of day he was having. Surprisingly he chose tea on the most tiring and stressful days and went with coffee on a more dull, average day. However that did make some sense, tea does have more caffeine in it.

JOHN

I went into the kitchen, sensing my conversation with John was as good as dead. As I filled the kettle, I thought about our conversation. It had almost been like talking to myself, he had the same mixed up feelings I did. We both loved Sherlock unconditionally and weren't really sure why. It was like someone had taken my brain, swirled it around and put it in a taller, more handsome man's body. It was a weird conversation to have, and it was interesting to hear his take on modern day wars I had explained to him. He was a bit more violent than me, and claimed he knew all kinds of martial arts. I wasn't sure it was all true but it seemed rather plausible.

I popped the tea bags into the mugs and went to ask them how they all had their tea. I didn't need to ask Sherlock of course, I know how he has all his drinks off by heart, but I didn't want to assume they took it the same as us despite their obvious similarities.

"How do you take your….tea" I trailed off as Sherlock hurriedly stood up, knocking over the coffee table as he did so, kicking something under the sofa and out of sight. The other Sherlock remained where he sat, but shifted uncomfortably. John laughed sheepishly from my bedroom door, leaning against the doorway.

"What's that?" I asked quietly. I hated secrets. Especially when Sherlock was keeping them, I thought we were best friends. Best friends don't keep secrets. Well…other than if you perhaps fall in love with said best friend, which you keep VERY secret indeed. I knew I had no chance, so why bother trying?

WATSON

I leant against the doorframe and held my breath, waiting for one of the Sherlock's to speak. I silently pleaded that someone would say something. I decided to just tell John the truth, I hated secrets being kept from me, especially if they affected me, and boy this did.

"Sherlock was just showing us" Sherlock leapt over the coffee table and slammed a hand over my mouth before turning to his John and smiling a rather flirty/perverse smile in my opinion

"Oh nothing my Dear John. Just… showing them clippings of old cases."

"I didn't know you kept clippings" John's eyebrow was raised and you didn't have to be Holmes to know he wasn't buying it. Sherlock laughed nervously, removing his hand from my mouth. I looked at my Sherlock who simply shrugged at me and patted the seat next to him. I sat down obediently.

"Of course I do, especially the latest ones." Sherlock's nerves were showing through rather badly, and it struck me as rather odd. I had assumed that both Sherlocks would be able to lie convincingly, then again when Holmes was lying to me he found it harder; maybe it was the same with this Sherlock.

"Can I see them?"

"No."

"No? Why not, Sherlock?" John was talking in a voice that was almost fake; so emotionless. He was annoyed. I could tell that already, and I had only met him a few hours back, then again it was like meeting myself-like my brain had been swirled and put into the body of a shorter, cuter version of me.

HOLMES

If the situation hadn't been real, I would have laughed. The look on the other Sherlock's face was so unbelievably fake it was funny. He was shifting on the balls of his feet for obviously John walking in had caught him off guard. The temptation to pull the box out from underneath the sofa was uncanny, and I leant down drew it out from underneath. I opened the box quietly as Sherlock attempted to lie his way out of things. The pictures in here were perfect-so so perfect for blackmail. Most of them were of John asleep. The other John that is. It was rather worrying, in my eyes, this collection of photos-verging on the stalker-ish.

My John had found it when he dropped his cane by the sofa, and had pulled it out. Sherlock had turned the most peculiar shade of green then white before attempting to snatch them off him. I hadn't had a chance to get a proper look before the other John had entered.

The top photo was of John asleep at a table, his greying hair covering his face and his mouth slightly open. It was a cute picture, and one of the least perverse. The second was of John talking to someone, you couldn't see the other person but John was laughing. His eyes were shining and his perfectly white teeth were on display. It was also a rather cute photo and was one a friend or lover would keep. The ones underneath were disturbing, you couldn't actually see much but several were of John in the shower. I shook my head slightly and began to leaf through them. John drinking tea, John laughing, John reading, John pouting, John scowling, John crying, John talking, John cooking, John dressing, John saluting… basically John. Hundreds of pictures of the other John.

With the other John watching me, I was fairly certain that from where he stood he couldn't see the contents of the box but, being the bastard that I am, I could help but put some photos on the table in front of him.

JOHN

I couldn't breathe for what lay in front of me was one of the most disturbing things I had ever seen. I looked up at Sherlock who was glowering at the other Sherlock murderously. I wanted answers, and I wanted them soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Sorry this took so long – my internet died :P please read and review xxx (warning swearing and sexual references in this chapter. Nothing too bad but might as well give you the heads up) Oh sorry this is so short. Next chapter will be longer I promise x _

Sherlock

I decided the only option was to come clean about everything-the nights I spent waiting,watching, dreaming; longing. I came clean about the cameras I'd hidden throughout the house, even the ones in the bathroom. How often I'd sit, night after night, watching him. It was my obsession. A hobby, if you will, to create a little box that was simply John Watson-my Watson. Little snippets of the most important person in my life all conveniently stored in that little shoe box under the sofa, but now it was all over. He knew. He knew how I had to come feel. I waited for the storm-for John to start yelling, to call me names, to tell me that I was a twisted pervert, and I should be locked up or maybe even run away, but he didn't do anything. I didn't which was worse. He stood staring blankly, silently. I could almost see the cogs turning in his head. I willed him to say something. Anything would've been better than the tortuous waiting.

The other men mumbled something about 'exploring' the flat and quickly exited the increasing awkward room. I wondered if John would follow them out; perhaps doing his extremely cute 'shoulder and head wiggle' that he always did when he wanted to shake something out of his mind, but he didn't. He just stood still, turning away from me. He was gazing out the window-his window. The one he would sit at after a stressful week. It gave him a perfect view of the street. John always loved that view.

I wanted to tell him to forget it all, forget my obsession, and forget my love for him. He swallowed and I wondered if he too felt the bile rising in his throat.

"John…I…umm" I trailed off, not even sure myself what I was going to say.

John

I considered my options. On one hand, the entire gesture, although rather creepy, was rather sweet in a way I wasn't even sure was possible until today's revelation. I could take it for love or something similar; perhaps lust. I'd be luck to get any of those from Sherlock but, if I did, by Jove, I was going to experience them properly and take complete advantage of the situation.. I could tell him how cute he was sometimes and throw myself at him-maybe pose together or maybe give him something to look at/do while I'm at work. As tempting as that was, I wasn't sure I could afford to lower my morals even further than they already were.

On the other hand, I could yell at him; stop him doing it. The picture thing was sick; it was perverse. He had pictures of me in the f-ing bathroom, which is surely the definition of a pervert is someone who takes indecent pictures of people, and the shower counts as an indecent picture in my mind. All the other pictures were just unnerving.

Of course I did have a third option, I thought as I looked down at the window box. I could always come clean about my box.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Another Short chapter I admit it, sorry but I just wanted have a chapter with Holmes and Watson __ Please read and review_

Watson

Holmes and I sat in the small room they called a bathroom. It was cramped and all tile, nothing like our bathrooms at home. The toilet was a definite improvement obviously, but the bath was far smaller than ours back in Baker Street. The one in our flat could fit both Holmes and I with room to spare for Gladstone (as I found out when trying to have a relaxing bath to relax myself-impossible with Holmes as a flatmate.) It was incredibly bright in the room and full of different pills and creams.

"Watson I think one could get rather high on this" Holmes grinned, and showed me a needle full of what appeared to be insulin.

"Not advisable Holmes. The good doctor probably keeps that for a patient. And it's not a particularly good high to seek out – doesn't last long and the after affects definitely cancel out the good affects. Besides you know how I feel about you injecting or swallowing things. And let's not forget sniffing" I added as he opened what appeared to be smelling salts.

"No harm will come to me from these, Watson but do not fear my dear man; I have only take opium since our discussion."

"As I've said before opium counts Holmes."

Holmes

I closed the lid of the strange smelling salts and continued my investigation of the medicine closet. A wooden box labelled 'rubbers' fell to my feet. I felt no desire to investigate them further so I stashed them back into the cupboard. Another needle sat on the shelf, this needle was full of another liquid hard to deduce through glass. I squirted a little out and gulped. Heroin. My demon. I felt myself shaking and stared at it for a while. I could almost feel the bliss, the high. The needle smiled at me, it welcomed me. Why heroin?

"Put it down, Holmes." Watson seemed so far away. "It's not good for you, Holmes." Bollocks, what did he know? It was heroin; my life before Watson. I had to have some, just a little bit. He wouldn't notice if I just casually slipped it into my arm.

I had to have some, just a little bit. He wouldn't even notice if I just casually slipped it into my arm.

"Holmes." Watson's voice was stern; threatening. I knew it was wrong-it was so wrong. That's what helped make it even more attractive. It was wrong

Most of the things that attracted me were supposedly wrong-like Watson for finding Watson attractive was wrong; so wrong but so right. It just felt like we were meant to be together. We just fit like two pieces of the same puzzle. Anything else didn't make the cut.

The man in question grasped my arm and shook his head.

"Holmes, please!" He was pleading with me now and so close; too close that his scent was overpowering my brain. It was hard to think of anything else but him. I felt the needle slip from my hand as he wrapped his arms around me-my John Watson. What would I do without him?

I felt the needle slip from my hand as he wrapped his arms around me. My John Watson. What would I do without him?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_A more complete Chapter which will hopefully stray back to the storyline. Please read and review x_

John:

I laughed slightly, everything that was happening today just seemed too unbelievable and downright bizarre.

"I suppose it would be hypocritical to call you a stalker when I have a rather similar obsession myself" Sherlock, for the first time since I have known him, looked confused and also slightly worried "If you just follow me to my room" I decided I might as well get the humiliation of him finding out, out of the way.

"John if you are obsessed with yourself I think that classifies as narcisstic"

"No I'm not obsessed with myself!" I half laugh half protest "I'm obsessed with…well you…"

"You...You're joking!"

"No I'm not" I mumble, feeling my lips go dry and wondering how he would react to my box which was slightly different to his photos. To be honest I wondered if it was slightly creepier what I had in my box. Some people might consider it so I mused as we walked what seemed like a vaster journey than normal. In a way it was less personal to Sherlock, but very personal to me.

The first layer of my many layered box was newspaper clippings, of all the murders we had solved together which made him smile. While he was looking through the top section I looked through his box. It felt unreal, how we were both so calm about this, well at least I was and he was acting like it. For some reason I just found his box cute and a sign I actually meant something to him. What I meant to him…well I just couldn't say and didn't dare to hope he felt the way I did. I mean he was 'married to his work' right?

If that was the case why did he have a box filled with pictures of me? Maybe he considered me a project? I had so much I really should have asked him, as this was probably the best time to ask, but for some reason I seemed unable to form words.

Sherlock:

John's box could possibly be considered more worrying than my own; however perhaps I had indulged in a proper custom normal human took part in? I hoped that was the case, I did like to sometimes get something right every now and again. Unfortunately something told me keeping boxes such as this was not a custom Londoners had, or perhaps not grown Londoners. For some reason I had started the box, and become unable to stop, I supposed that was the case with John too.

I was about to go onto the second layer of Johns box (Which was annoyingly more organised than my own) when my phone rang. For a moment I considered ignoring it, but the thought of another mystery to take my mind off the doubles, the boxes and the strange headache that had started to develop at the back of my skull.

It was Lestrade again, mores the pity, for some reason I was hoping Mycroft had heard about the double scenario. It would definitely interest him if he had heard of it, perhaps I would give him a call later I thought as I begrudgingly went through the piteous formalities John liked me to use with Lestrade.

"So may I inquire as to why you are calling" Polite, like John told me to be.

"I think I found how your friends got here, but I need them here to test my theory"  
"You have a theory?" I half laughed, receiving a glare from John and an irritated huff from Lestrade

"Well it was Anderson's idea at first"  
"It's wrong, I don't think it's worth coming up there"

"Holmes, bring Dr Watson and Mr Holmes up immediately. That's an order now!"

"Ooh I'm so scared" I muttered as I shut off the phone. "Come on John, We have received orders from the mother ship to bring the others back, apparently Anderson" I said the name with more than a hint of scorn "Has a theory about how they got here. Go get the others, I'll hail a taxi" I looked at John's eyes, and saw the very slight sadness in their beautiful depths "We'll talk when we get back?" John nodded and left, I could practically watch John's aura switch from sad and solemn to cheerful and optimistic. I ignored the flutter of my heart and went to get that cab I promised.

Watson

I couldn't help kissing the top of Holmes' head, taking in a deep breath of Holmes-ness. I wished I could hold him like this forever

"Holmes, there's something I've been meaning to say" I stuttered and I felt him shift as an answer "I'd rather you not to be high when I say it" I was just going to do it, I had to let it out. I had to tell him how I felt.

"Hey guys why are you in the bathroom? Is everything ok? Listen we need to go back to the police station, they have a theory about how you got here, and if it proves to be true we should be able to get you back to your normal time" John stood outside the door, I sighed and released Holmes who seemed to forget I was there and ran off. The glint in his eyes only meant one thing 'When I get home I can return to my box of cocaine and heroin. The quicker we get back the quicker I can get back to my beloved'

I would burn every ounce of drug in the world if it meant I got half the affection his needle received.

Holmes

We climbed back inside the cab and sped off towards the station myself and Watson had found ourselves in earlier the very same morning, I wondered what on earth the point of us leaving was but sat back and enjoyed the ride all the same. I looked out of the cab window and watched the world whizz by, I had never thought for a moment we would be able to invent something so fantastically fast, I would have to work at it when we got back home. I looked at Watson who was still pale, he didn't very much like riding carriages at home he found the speed frightening, so naturally he was petrified going this fast. Without much thought I put a hand on his thigh to comfort him and he jolted before smiling weakly at me.

As we passed a red box something inside began to ring. The cab stopped and the other John got out, complaining about the rudeness of some people.

"Who is it?"

"My elder brother Mycroft" Sherlock rolled his eyes "Probably to check up on me, the irritating bastard"

"You know I have an elder brother called Mycroft too, however my brother doesn't take much interest in me, or at least not my line of work"  
"Unfortunately my brother is quite the opposite, he has undoubtedly heard of the situation and will be sticking his nose in any time soon" Sherlock had a hint of resentment in his voice, something easily deduced from the little twinge his voice gave. It helped of course he was not trying to hide the resentment, the feud was obviously an open one. The other John got back into the car and turned to Sherlock

"Mycroft will meet us at Scotland yard"

"Fabulous" Sherlock scowled and looked out the window sulkily. I wondered what his brother looked like.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Sorry this chapter has taken so long! I'm not going to waste your time telling you why, I'll just say I'm so sorry and I hope you think it's worth the wait xx_

Sherlock

When we arrived at Scotland Yard we were greeted by Anthea, who as usual focused more attention on her phone than us or our duplicates. I had expected some sort of reaction, but she barely looked twice at us and I decided that mobile phones really did make you blind.

"Mr Holmes is talking to DI Lestrade about the situation, he'll be with you in a moment"  
"I have no desire to see your master in any case" I snapped and sat down in the same seat I had sat in earlier that morning.

"Hello freak" Donovan walked past us all in a scandalously short skirt and an outrageously low cut top, she looked as if she were about to go on a date rather than to go to work, she had changed since the morning.

"Hello Donovan, may I ask where you're going with Anderson tonight?" I smirked and she rolled her eyes "Not Anderson tonight, just going out with my girls" I should have known that, her makeup isn't over done like it is on a date. She smiled a less than friendly smile, "See I have a life outside my work" She added and began to walk away from us.

"Is Anderson happy with you going out like that?" I smirked at her shocked face "After all you are wearing what most men and some woman would consider 'attractive'" She sighed and turned to face us

"We had an argument if you must know, besides he can't tell me off if I do take a fancy to a man seeing as he's doing worse to his wife than I could do to him" She walked away from us before I could answer, and when I turned to the others I was met by two pairs of sad eyes and one blank pair. I wondered if the feeling less eyes I could see on Sherlock's face matched my own, both Johns were looking after Donovan as if she needed to be pitied.  
"Poor Donovan" John murmured and I looked at him in particular, he shifted slightly when he felt my eyes on him and I found my mind drifting off the situation and back to John's box, I was desperate to figure out what was in it and searched his face for clues, but the brainless idiot was still worrying about Anderson and Donovan's relationship problems.

"She's only losing Anderson John, nothing she should fret about"  
"Who's losing me?" Anderson entered the room and I turned my back to him and ignored his existence, I really did not have the time to deal with Anderson – especially if he thinks his theory is correct.

Lestrade and Mycroft entered, Mycroft barely acknowledging my existence which irritated me seeing as he was constantly following me normally and now it was like he had forgotten me. I didn't understand why I was annoyed at this, I should have been pleased he wasn't examining me to check I'm ok and healthy, but for some reason I hated him not doing the things that normally annoyed me. Lestrade stopped next to Anthea for a minute and looked at her for a moment, his eyes drifting down then up her body. She looked up from her phone and gave him a brief 'get on with it' smile and he cleared his throat

"Ok so we all know this is not right, obviously John Watson and Sherlock Holmes the second do not belong here. Now Anderson has a theory, we've sent out some forensics to do research and a few others to investigate the possibility, Anderson would you explain your idea?"  
"Anything for you" Anderson mock drawled, how irritating.

John

I placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder to stop him doing anything Anderson would regret.

"My theory is based on both their clothes; they are from the Victorian era. To me this could mean one of three obvious options"

"This should be interesting" Sherlock smirked and I sighed, so typical of him. Despite the fact he was being arrogant and irritating I couldn't help smiling fondly, he was so gorgeous.

"The first, and although it should be considered the most likely option I'm reluctant to believe it, is that they are both just complete wackos. But as I said before it doesn't seem to be likely although it is far more plausible. The second is that they have somehow managed to travel through time, and have come from the Victorian era. We have historians investigating them as I speak." He paused as if waiting for Sherlock to find flaws in his first two methods, before shrugging and continuing " The third explanation I came up with was that they could be from another universe"

"Ah yes, the theory that there is a parallel universe developing identical to our own but at a slower or faster rate" Sherlock interrupted and I could have sworn Anderson looked at him rather fondly for a moment before sighing in irritation at the interruption

"Precise as always Holmes" Lestrade smiled, and checked his watch "Look I've got to get out of here, Anderson, Donovan, Holmes and Watson number one could you interview Holmes and Watson number 2 and find out what they know?"  
"John and I can handle it, no need for help from Donovan and her shag buddy" Anderson frowned and walked off; I could tell if Donovan had been here she would have done the same – secretly giggling at Sherlock.

Watson

I sat down on the hard chair in the examination room and was reminded of the time I was captured whilst at war. This interrogation would hopefully be less scary and less painful. Holmes sat down on the chair next to me; he was still pale from his episode in the bathroom and was slightly shaking. But only me, and perhaps the other Holmes would have noticed as it was so slight. I took his hand under the table

"Don't worry Holmes, I'll help you with the drugs" He whispered in his ear and he felt Holmes' hand tense under his. The other Sherlock and John stood close together, Sherlock had lent forward and John had stood up on his tiptoes so their foreheads touched, they were whispering to each other in what seemed to be urgency.

"I know you will Watson, but I assure you that I am completely over them" He was lying, I could see it in his eyes. He was so sure no one could read him, but I'd been reading him for years. Normally I couldn't deduce much from the slight shift in his eyes or the twitch of his mouth but today I could see how agitated he still was from the thought he nearly took those drugs again, nearly went back down the road we'd both rather he avoid. I squeezed his hand tightly and turned to face the other two  
"We'll tell you anything you want" I suddenly felt tears begin to build "I just want to go home"

I hadn't realised how badly I missed our home until I thought about it, I missed the carriages, Gladstone, my surgery and of course dear old Mrs Hudson. She must be out of her mind with worry I thought, and sighed, looking away from the other three men. I looked out of the thin barred window at the huge buildings, the smog free air. Everything looked and felt so unnatural, even my dear Holmes seemed put out by this strange new place.

Holmes

Watson was crying, for once I couldn't fathom why. I certainly hoped it wasn't my fault, I'd let him down. He'd worked for weeks on my addiction, spent so many hours monitoring me, comforting me, treating me, washing me, cleaning up after me and generally just helping me out. All his hard work had gone to waste the moment I saw a needle. He now knows he can't trust me if I'm alone with a needle. I needed to make it up to him as soon as possible, which makes it even more important that we got home as soon as possible so we can be comfortable and alone together. He'd open up more.

After several hours we had recounted events of the past fifteen weeks, all except from the week before we arrived, which neither of us could remember anything about except an odd blur. In fact I was surprised our lack of memory hadn't crossed out minds. _(apologies dear readers)_.

"Just as I thought" The chap they just called 'Anderson' entered the room, behind him the woman in the outrageous get up strutted in.

"Feeling homesick yet boys?" She grinned at me and Watson and I heard him take in some air rather sharply, and why he was crying (very quietly mind you – Watson was far too proud to show his distress, he was so cute when he pretended not to care) came into focus. Of course! He missed home! I made a mental note to stick close to him and keep him thinking sanely. I couldn't let him lose his mind – he was my rock. I need him to be sane or what chance do I have?

Sherlock:

"Do be quiet Donovan; you're ruining the very sparse respect I have for you" I snapped and looked across at the doubles, who were understandably glowering at her. John growled something incomprehensible and smiled at the others reassuringly. I got a text from Lestrade telling me to keep the doubles out of sight of the public, and stay at Baker Street until they gave me notice. As annoying as being ordered around was I had to agree it was a good idea, and bundled us all into a taxi back to the flat.

Everyone seemed more than happy to go back to the flat; I supposed that the doubles liked to stay in familiar-ish places. John held my hand in the taxi home. I didn't know why he was, but I was grateful for it.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – A very Watson Chapter

_Entirely told by our two Watsons. Please read and review. _

John:

We returned home to a silent flat, and spent most of the day sitting around talking and asking the others questions about their home. It was interesting to learn about the differences between our lives and theirs. The Victorian clothes seemed very fitting to their lives, and I found myself wishing I had met them before I did my history GCSE- I might have gotten a better grade. John was in the middle of telling me about his method for healing broken bones when Sherlock announced he was ordering food and wanted to know what we wanted. Both Holmes and Watson ordered salads, obviously not willing to risk things they'd never heard of. We ate in near silence, the whole meal I was painfully aware of Sherlock's flitting looks at my box. I did not want him seeing inside my box, the pictures were ok. What was underneath was not. When the others retired into the lounge area I binned the box – as discreetly as possible wondering what had possessed me to bring it to his attention in the first place. The TV had distracted the other Sherlock and John, but not my Sherlock. He heard the bang and was immediately by my side

"What did you throw away John?"

"Umm..Nothing Sherlock" I don't know why I even bothered trying to lie to him. He already knew. He always knew.

"The box. Why?" He was glowering at me, that face was so intimidating. I swallowed nervously and licked my dry lips. Sherlock's eyes lingered lightly on my lips but he was not easily distracted, his eyes quickly jumped up to meet my eyes.

"I didn't want you seeing it" I muttered and he seemed to be angered by my honest answer, I don't know what alternative I had though.

"You saw my box, why should I not see yours" He half yelled at me, and I matched his glare.  
"It's private. I only saw yours by accident Sherlock. You didn't give it to me, why should I show you all of mine. You saw what I wanted you to see. And it's an invasion of privacy!" I yelped, panic rising in my throat and messing up the firm message I was trying to get across. Sherlock scowled again

"That's hardly fair! I didn't want you to look in my box!"

"Then take it up with the other Holmes! He gave it to me!" I was sick of being yelled at. It was my right to hide something. I was allowed to have a few secrets "Any way I thought you were amazing, the only consultant detective! So deduce it!" I snapped and his face fell slightly before he snapped his answer back at me

"I can't deduce it if I have no lead! You know that!" I ignored him and went to my room; I could hear him following me in and pretended not to. I was not in the best mood if I'm totally honest, so the argument that followed was hardly surprising.

Watson:

Hours of ceaseless arguing passed and then eventually died down. I had not really paid it much attention; the fantastic box with moving pictures had entrapped me. The quality of the pictures was beyond anything I'd ever seen before and I could not fathom how it could possibly work. It was a miracle! It had to be! Anyway they had barely stopped arguing when Holmes stood up

"I'm going to investigate" I rolled my eyes, typically nosy Holmes.

"Have fun" I did not avert my gaze from the box. It had a certain hypnotic quality to it, and I actually found it hard to look away from it. I could hear Holmes laughing, or rather attempting to hold back his laughter and not succeeding. He re-entered the room and tapped me on the shoulder three times because I didn't immediately respond to the first tap.

"Come and have a look Watson. It's rather amusing!" he sniggered slightly and I was once again reminded of a child. I reluctantly left the magic box behind and went into the room with him. Standing in the doorway with him I was painfully aware of how close our bodies were, and didn't register the room beyond for a while or two. However when I finally did focus I couldn't help laughing – it was a comical sight.

The other Sherlock was asleep against a wardrobe, he was pouting in his sleep and still had his hand in John's hair in a way that suggesting he had been pulling it before falling asleep. John was asleep beside him, his face flat on the carpet, his hands were on Sherlock's, and threaded between them and his hair. I couldn't help laughing at the thought of them falling asleep mid-fight. It seemed too like me and Holmes.

"They must have been tired" Holmes spluttered. I turned to look at him and met that childish smile. I found myself once again pondering on how much I loved this man.

"Come on Holmes, you need to get some rest too" I half commanded, leading him to the other bedroom, practically putting him in bed and went to leave.

"Watson!" He sounded different, even more childish than normal, "Please. I don't want to be alone tonight" I had never felt more confused and yet happy in my entire life, I wasn't sure exactly what to do. I let the Doctor side of me take over and thought of Holmes as a patient who needed some tender love and care.

I went back into the room and gave him what I hoped was a normal non-awkward smile. I sat down on the cold bed sheets and was half forced under the covers. The sheet and duvet around me were already beginning to warm up from Holmes' body heat and it was pure bliss to lie in bed beside him feeling his warmth. I didn't dare move, I was terrified he might recoil from me, or mistake my movement as an attempt to leave and be upset with me. Holmes was lying still and silent before me and if I did not know him as well as I do I may not have realised he was not asleep. The way he was laying would suggest to anyone he was asleep, the rise and fall of his chest was so perfectly even and his eyes closed gently and yet not too loosely. But I knew that he was not asleep, Holmes did not sleep like the average person. He would toss and turn, and talk almost constantly about things I could not hope to understand in his sleep, not lie still and silent. Reluctantly I allowed myself to relax and pretended he was holding me in his arms. And I may have dreamed it, but in the night I swear I felt his strong arms around my body.

John:

It was dark and cold. I was standing on my own in a blank and desolate place I did not recognise. And then everything came into focus. I was at the pool again. But I wasn't alone like I originally thought. I was joined by two other men, the first was Moriarty and he was treating me to a particularly sickening smile. He said something, but I cannot hear him over another voice. The other voice was more sinister, I did not understand it but it still sent dread and terror to my heart.

"You will meet us both in the near future Doctor Watson" The second voice half gloated to me. And I woke up.

I woke up with tears streaming down my face and someone's arms wrapped awkwardly around me. I gasped for air and lent against the figure, who was also shaking like I was. I didn't open my eyes for a long time, I was almost afraid I would find it was Moriarty holding me – posing as a friendly character. But I mentally scolded myself and opened my eyes to see a frightened looking Sherlock holding me.

"I'm sorry I upset you earlier John. You were right; it's your private life. It's none of my business"

"It's ok Sherlock" I smiled

"What was your nightmare about? Are you ok?" He was checking me over and I suppressed a giggle at his genuine concern. I shook away the dream and focused on the far nicer notion that Sherlock Holmes had his arms around me.

"It was about Afghanistan" I lied and he did not seem to be able to deduce anything in the dark, instead he just tenderly took my hand and helped me to my feet

"A proper bed might help you to sleep" He muttered, climbing into my bed and pulling me in beside him. I chose not to point out we were sharing a bed, just chose to enjoy it while it lasted. And even though I kept waking throughout the night with the same dream it was the best night's sleep I'd ever had.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

_Short chapter. Sorry. Please Read and review. New chapter should be up soon x_

Holmes

I was awoken in the night by the most deafening of noises; I almost fell out of the bed in fright. Had it not been for Watson's hand grabbing me I would have had quite a nasty fall. Watson pulled me to my feet and held me close – out of instinct of course, I would not let myself believe it was out of affection. We ran into the other room where the others were standing, Sherlock was on the telephone and John was clinging onto his sleeve, his face pale and his entire body shaking. He told Watson and me that there had been an explosion down the road.

"Moriarty? Why am I not surprised?" Moriarty? Moriarty was here? I walked closer and tried to hear what the other side of the phone was saying. The other Holmes seemed to notice what I was doing as he put the telephone on what he called 'Loud speak'. It was a terrible piece of grammar but I decided not to correct it – it was far too early in the morning to bother with such trivial matters.

The voice on the phone did not sound awfully stressed, but there was a hint of concern lacing his voice as he spoke. He reminded me of my brother, not worried as such, just concerned.

"The thing is Sherlock that my security cameras saw two people entering the building and setting the bomb"

"Mycroft don't be foolish, Moriarty very rarely does the job himself"

"Yes but the handiwork is awfully good for his hired thugs, and one of the characters is of his height and build. He does not normally bother trying to make them look like him – he feels he is too unique to recreate."

"I'll go investigate the scene of the crime then, but who would Moriarty team up with? He's far too proud to allow anyone to be his partner in crime – and if he did he would get rid of them when he'd had enough of them." Sherlock shut the phone off and seemed to be lost in thought for a moment before the other John tugged at his sleeve, a scared look on his tired face.

"Sherlock, I had a dream that Moriarty was being assisted by a mysterious other!" As if a dream held any significance!

"Maybe Moriarty came here when we did!" My Watson chimed in and I was worried I myself hadn't thought of this. God that was such a simple solution! Ok I admit that maybe the other John's dream might hold some significance. Suddenly, as I thought about his dream, I remembered what we were doing before we woke up here. It appeared in my head, fitting together like pieces of a child's puzzle.

"We were following him!" I yelped. The others jumped and all turned to look at me "We were so close!" Watson was looking at me blankly so I gave up hoping he would remember too – after all he did have an inferior mind.

My memory was beginning to come back; it was funny how just the mention of his name had sparked my memory. I could remember everything before long, so I was sat down to be interviewed again.

Watson

Holmes was telling me about events in my own life I did not remember. It was almost surreal but to be honest Holmes had always known more about me than I knew myself. He told me how we had been running for hours through the typical London smog; how he had been telling me as we ran that it was Moriarty's most dastardly plan yet. How he had been planning to take over another dimension. I sat there listening to him telling me how I had tripped – by no fault of my own- over a carefully place wooden pole. I rolled my eyes as he laughed at the memory.

"Moriarty turned around a corner and disappeared into the smoke and we followed him. Suddenly everything went a bright shade of pink, and I woke up here" He concluded rather merrily considering the worrying situation we were in. The other three seemed chuffed they knew what was going on and I have to admit I almost took joy in pointing out the painfully obvious.

"So instead of one psycho we have trouble stopping we have two?" The room's atmosphere shifted and we all shot each other worried looks.

John

Sherlock leapt to his feet.

"Well obviously there is some kind of portal you came through! So we just need to find the portal, find your moriarty and throw you guys back through!" He said it as if it would be easy. I sighed and decided to just go along with his plan – it would be easier to pretend I was happy with it than complain.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Hopefully a bit better than my last chapter which was a bit rushed. Please read and review. Rather short but a bit more of a thing just to get everything rolling. The next chapter is where everything gets kicking ;) Should be up soon.

John

We arrived at the scene of the explosion in far less time than I thought it would take. When we got there Watson was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. Holmes and Sherlock had already run off to investigate- yelling suggestions at each other as they did so. I hanged back with John. He, like me, obviously did not like the idea of meeting more than one Moriarty. It was the most frightening thing I'd ever heard. One Moriarty had almost blown us both up, imagining two of them was simply terrifying. I kept looking at him until he felt my eyes on him and turned to face me. His eyes were dulled with fear and his brow slightly creased although he was not frowning. I was again reminded how handsome the other John was – it was no wonder the other Sherlock had taken an interest in him.

"Are you ok?" He nodded slowly and licked his lips before replying

"I'm ok. I'm scared" He added uncertainly and I couldn't help agreeing. "Not just of Moriarty" He went on "But…well Holmes and I…I swear last night I felt him hold me close and…well I've never felt so happy…I…wish he would tell me if he feels the same way about me as I do to him. He already knows how I feel, surely he must. He's the cleverest man in the entire world for Christ's sake! He must know I love him!" I smiled inwardly and wrapped an awkward arm around him

"Don't worry. He loves you. I can tell" I wasn't lying. He showed it in everything he did, in the way he kept checking Watson was there, the way his eyes lit up whenever Watson spoke. It was rather endearing to watch. Watson was looking at me doubtfully, he shook his head and looked away.

"No he doesn't. He could never feel the same. I'm not good enough for him."

I felt sort of angry at that. At that exact moment I saw my own feelings reflected on a brilliant man's face and knew how wrong I'd been. Of course we were good enough, we were brilliant people who deserve love and deserve our happy endings. Or at least Watson was, and if Watson was then why shouldn't I? After all we are technically the same person aren't we? Even if we are from different dimensions. And I told him this. He smiled at me and nodded almost bravely, and I felt his bravery too. It was a brave thing to do to admit we are worth someone's time, and – with our new air of importance – we followed our soon-to-be-lovers into the crime scene.

Sherlock

As we examined the scene, discussing random clues with one and other, I began to think about what my life will be like when the whole thing was over. I knew I would miss the intelligent conversations I could finally have, the conversations in which I didn't have to explain anything (Ignoring a few modern technology hiccoughs) or repeat my point (Not that I minded with John but he was always the exception). It was exhilarating to have someone with equal intellect! I found myself feeling quite sad when I remembered he would be leaving soon. I also found myself worrying about how John would feel when the others left, I could tell he liked spending time with the other John. They seemed to get on awfully well. Sometimes too well, I found myself getting stomach aches when I thought about them together. I was not jealous. Though I did frequently remind myself it was me who had comforted John last night – maybe there was some hope.

I was just about to dwell on my relationship with John when I heard an awfully irritating chirping sound from under a pile of rubble; I followed the sound to where both Johns and the other Sherlock were standing – the other John prying at a chunk of concrete with his cane. It was a rather nice cane, and for some reason the image of John with said cane was most appealing. I made a mental note to buy John a cane when this was all over.

Holmes

When Watson lifted the concrete away with his cane (He always was good with that cane, and it was always a nice sight to see him put it to use) There was a long metal-looking container-type-item. The irritating noise seemed to be coming from it, and because the area was a former bomb site I decided lifting the device at that point may not have been a good idea. The other Holmes arrived next to me and picked up the device before I could open my mouth. We all, excluding Holmes, flinched but nothing happened. I tried not to let my relief show and asked what it meant.

"They're contacting us" He answered curtly and plugged the device into his phone. The images were of a poor quality and bad sound compared to those on the box last night, but you could just about make out what they were saying.

"Hello Sherlock!" An unusual sounding man was he- quite camp and yet also very masculine. He was a very queer fellow, and didn't seem to be able to stand still. I supposed this was the other Moriarty, and he stood fairly close to the Moriarty I was used to. Dangerously close for anyone else but as I watched I could tell he was not afraid of Moriarty, obviously because he was equally deadly. It was almost surreal.

"Hello Holmes" The familiar voice still sent chills down my spine "As you know I am very close to taking over our own world. But Our world grows rather dull over time"

"And you know how bored we get!" The other man chipped in gaily.

"Precisely, so I invented a device that would take me to this world. I thought that if there were two of me it would be so delightfully easy to take over both worlds! After all how is it fair for there to be two of you and only one of me?"

"Little old I can only do so much!" The other man chipped in again, almost annoyed this time. Typical Moriarty, he did not like to be out done. "This intelligent and handsome man came to me, in my home! Proving he's smarter than you! You've never discovered my home! Anyway he came to my home, told me his plan and I dare say it was brilliant! Worthy of me! So here's the deal Holmes'. We are better than you. And to prove it"

"We're going to take over both our worlds. And just try to stop us. Alone we are virtually unstoppable, now there's no way you can even slow us down! Good night Holmes, and good luck" Moriarty left, leaving the other one standing grinning sinisterly at the camera. He straightened his tie, smoothed his hair and grinned again.  
"Ciao boys!" He winked and switched the recording device off.

We stood in silence for a while, it didn't take me long to formulate a plan.

Watson:

My Holmes began to talk to the other in a hushed whisper and then they both turned to John and I in sync.

"Watson! And er… Watson! We have come up with a plan! We're going to need your help!"

"For the first time ever John we do not want you two to come with us!"

"We have an important mission for you!"

I glanced at John who looked physically ill at the thought of being away from his Holmes, and I found myself feeling the same way.

"Holmes and I are going after Moriarty and Moriarty"

"So we need you two to find the portal or device we came through!"

"It will be in London somewhere, just look in the news there should be reports on strange sightings or activity or something. This is London, news spreads like wildfire"

"Do you think you can do that for us?" I nodded dumbly and looked to see John biting his lip but nodding too. My stomach was already flipping. Without so much as a by-your-leave Holmes and Sherlock ran off somewhere. I sighed and looked at John who matched my sigh.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_Nearing the end of our story please let me know what you think of it. Because reviews make my brain work and I need my brain :D Sorry this took so long – I'm doing my mock GCSEs at the moment :/_

Holmes:

After a few hours of aimlessly running around I had to admit to the other Holmes I had no idea where we were going, and he sheepishly admitted that he didn't either. The poor chap looked rather put out at this; I assume this was because he was not used to not knowing something, and I admit I myself was feeling rather distressed by now. It had been at least three hours since I had seen Watson, and I was not used to being apart for him for so long. I scolded myself for being so upset by this, we weren't married! We were…friends? No we were more than friends, he was my doctor! Obviously a man and his doctor were supposed to be inseparable! It wasn't weird, was it? Not that it ever mattered to me if we were odd, but this kind of thing bothered Watson. I wondered if he was worrying about it as much as I was.

"Perhaps we'd better check empty warehouses or empty homes" he suggested and I decided those places were as good as any "And I'll ask my homeless network if they've seen anything"

Ah! Now we were talking! A homeless network! Oh I did miss the baker street boys! (And girls but let's not get technical now). I felt the now familiar feeling of homesickness, and I turned to Watson for his usual comforting smile which I could not receive because he wasn't there. It was almost surreal.

Watson

We decided to go on 'the underground' which, John explained, was a sort of train but more high-tech. Although I was still not particularly happy with the 'high-tech' items and modes of transports (They still looked like monsters to me) I followed him on. After all what use is a sidekick who doesn't like riding a train? I did not want to disappoint Holmes. We sat on the underground for quite a while, and it was frightfully dark. Though I suppose that being underground it was bound to be. I was beginning to feel a little sick when we finally pulled up at our stop. It had been quite confusing really, because in my world trains tended to go to one destination, whereas here they stopped almost every five/ten minutes. The jolt the underground made when it stopped was sickening – literally. I had an almost dizzy feeling when I staggered off it behind John who seemed completely unaffected. The smug bastard!

He led me into dark alleyways, even darker than the underground, and for a few minutes I had to reassure myself that John was a trustworthy fellow – I felt somewhat defenceless without Holmes by my side but don't you dare tell him that! However, although I did no longer doubt John's intentions, I still gripped my cane a little tighter than I would have normally. We began our search when the alleyway widened, revealing a beautiful looking field and a few gentle looking homes. I do not know why John chose to look there, but it felt like a good place to be searching.

We searched in silence for a few minutes, then John spoke. After all that time of silence I was expecting something insightful, deep and meaningful.

"What's the plural for Moriarty?" I stopped in my search and looked at him, he was peering inside a large crate. I put down the manhole cover I held in my hand and thought about it for a moment. "Would it be Moriartys as in y and s? Or perhaps Moriarties as in I, e, s?" He asked, shutting the crate and moving on to the larger one beside it. They did look like the perfect place to store a universe travelling machine.

"It could always be Moriartees as in e, e ,s" I suggested, supressing a gag as I lent to investigate the drainage. I decided Moriarty would not have teleported into a sewer – it wasn't his style- and shut the dreaded thing back up.

"We prefer the first one, but whatever floats your boat gentleman" Said a disgustingly similar drawl "Is fine by me, is it fine by you Jim?" I turned to face them and watched Jim smirk and nod, drawing his gun and placing it elegantly on my temple. I sighed and wondered if I could hit him with my cane faster than he pulled his trigger – it was doubtful, so I didn't. That smirk was going to cause me nightmares – I could feel it.

"Now, am I right in thinking you're searching for the portal?" I nodded slowly, and he laughed maliciously, drawing his own pistol and pointing it at John who stood frozen by the containers. "Shame the Holmes' found it first." He laughed, and I stiffened. Why was that a shame?

"They buggered off!" Jim chipped in, gleefully.  
"They have abandoned you both; they travelled into the other dimension and seem in no hurry to come back. Shows how much your lives are worth to them, doesn't it boys." I swallowed. It..it couldn't be true…Holmes promised he'd wait for me. He promised he'd look after me. As I thought this I couldn't quite believe I had…I didn't depend on him! Did I? Of course I didn't. I had told him just two weeks ago I would look after him. I suppose we both looked after each other. Not that I'd ever tell Holmes I need him. It is him who needs me, or at least as far as he needs to know.

"You're lying!" John yelled, his voice cracking on the last syllable. He couldn't believe it either. We couldn't be so meaningless to them!

"So as you're no longer keeping them interested" Jim sniggered, half kissing the gun he had seductively raised to his lips. I saw an opportunity and slammed the cane out at Jim's ribs – connecting with a sickening smash.

John

I stood in shock, wondering what Jim would do next. Instead of curling up in pain he stood up straight and pouted.

"That wasn't" He choked suddenly, and spat out a mouthful of blood "Very nice now was it" He gasped, leaning against the wall for support. John thrust his cane out at Jim who dodged it expertly and raised his gun "Do not make me use this!" He warned, pressing it hard against John's head. The other Moriarty tightened his grip on his gun and gave me a look that told me not to move. I sighed and shifted uncomfortably, wondering what on earth I could do.

"Give me one reason not to shoot you" Jim said, his eyes narrowing. I could barely breathe. I looked at John who matched his stare. I couldn't tell who would break the stare first – I only knew one thing. When Sherlock came back I'd kill him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Sorry it's short, next chapter should be up soon _

Sherlock

When I woke up I was face down on a patch of muddy grass with the worst hangover I'd ever had. It was the lowest low I'd ever been on. Under normal circumstances I would have loved being in Victorian times – or at least an alternate version of our Victorians times- but I felt weird without John. It didn't feel right running around a new and interesting place without my blogger.

"We need to get back!" I gasped, sitting up and looking at Sherlock who was lying on his back and looking at the smoggy sky.

"I'm home." He cheered, lying back and running his hands through the muddy grass "With legal opium and smog filled skies!" he was laughing with happiness now "Why would I leave?"

"What about Watson?" I asked, and he stopped his ramblings.

"Watson!" He leapt to his feet and ran into the opium den. I smirked inwardly and followed him back through the portal. It was even more odd the second time passing through.

Holmes

We ran through the warehouse and out of instinct I knew where to find my Watson. We arrived at the scene to see them both on the floor. My Watson kneeling and his Watson…gagging up blood and lying scarily still. I heard Sherlock scream, I had never heard him lose his dignity before.

"Oh my God John!" He yelled, over taking me and half running- half slipping down the road towards the crying pair. I ran too, I could almost feel hurt radiating from Sherlock and I found myself imagining how I would feel if it were my Watson in the other man's arms. I quickly stopped, it was not something I liked imagining.

John

All I could feel was pain. Moriartys had grown tired of fighting and decided to let us die slowly, but the bullet had missed John by some miracle. I unfortunately had not been so lucky. I could almost feel my life draining away, and I slowly allowed the slideshow of my life present itself to me. Everything else was beginning to fade into the distance; all I could hear was distant shouts and my own heartbeat. I began to pray for my life. I didn't want to die yet. I wanted to kill Sherlock for leaving me and letting me get shot. And then through all the pain and fear I felt someone's arms wrap around me. Soft and skilled hands wrapped around my wounds and strong arms wrapped around my body. All I could think about was the warm comfort of those arms. Two other pairs of hands were around me and I was pulled into another pair of arms. These were softer, and everything felt right. I didn't care I could feel blood trickling down my body. In those arms, I felt safe. It was Sherlock. I could tell. I could feel it in his arms.

Sherlock

I held John close to my body and tried to stop his bleeding. I didn't understand why they had done this. And then when I thought it couldn't get any worse John spoke, a bare whisper

"He told me you'd left me" He was half crying. I felt my black heart break. I held him closer

"I would never leave you" I promised, kissing his forehead without even thinking. He leant into me and let out a little puff of air. I would not let that be his last breath. I wouldn't lose him. Never.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_Please read and review – sorry this story is taking so long. Sorry for shortness – next chapter up soon I promise_

_Warning Death of Bad people (As much as it pains me to say so, it just seemed to fit the storyline.) _

Holmes

I was angry now. If someone had hurt my Watson I'd want revenge. I met my Watson's eyes. He nodded. He knew what I wanted to do. We both stood, Watson patting John gently on his forehead and picking up his cane. Watson's cuffs and his front were soaked with John's blood. He looked down at it and looked back at me. Flames burning in his eyes. I knew that look. He wanted revenge as much as I did. So together we set out on the trail to catch them. I had never felt so hung up over a death. As soon as they came into my line of vision I knew I was to kill them both. I didn't care. No one hurts my friend's Watson.

"Hello Holmes, looks like we've won" My Moriarty gloated. I raised my gun

"You won't shoot us, you need us. We complete you" I stopped, hesitating. I was about to lower my gun when I heard footsteps behind me.

"You've killed him" A cracked and distraught voice yelled from behind me, I whipped around to see Sherlock standing, his arms shaking and tears rolling down his face. He raised his gun and blinked furiously. He took a shaking hand and wiped away the tears. Moriarty looked scared; he looked at the younger man who matched his fearful expression.

"Now now Sherlock…let's not do anything hasty" He gasped. Sherlock growled and shot two bullets, one hitting my Moriarty in the side of his head sending spurts of blood onto the wall behind and over his body and the other in the other Moriarty's neck. I covered my Watson's eyes.

Sherlock

I couldn't really believe I had done it. I had killed them both. In just two shots. In just two shots I had eliminated the man I had been fighting for years. It was an odd feeling. I was about to go check he was dead when I thought of John again. I had to go check he was ok! I glanced back at the bodies, felt an over whelming feeling of sadness. I couldn't breathe for a moment. I froze, but then I thought about my John. I had to go check on him. I dropped my gun and ran to him. He was sitting up now, his paling face like the white wall behind him. It was a startling pale. I arrived by his side and pulled him close, trying to feel his heart. It was beating weakly, and he was barely breathing. He was just staring blankly into the distance. I tried to get him to respond.

Watson

Before I processed what had happened Sherlock put his scarred and slightly singed hands over my eyes. I had always loved his hands. They were musician hands, a scientist's hands. They were both gentle and hard at the same time. I reminded myself there were more important things to think about then my dear Holmes' hands. I pulled away from him and ran to John, who was far past his good stage. I heard Holmes try and talk some sense into Sherlock, and try to get him to call an ambulance on his 'mobile'. Sherlock agreed in short, dry sobs. I tried to stop John's bleeding. It wasn't looking good. I kneeled on the dirty floor beside Sherlock and Holmes went to check if either Moriarty was still living. He got no response from either.

"I can't believe he's dead. My arch-nemesis. Gone. One bullet. Is that all it took?" Holmes was crying. I stood up, John was stable now, and wrapped my arm around him

"It's ok, you'll find new crime to solve, and London will never be short. Think of it as one less evil to deal with."" He sighed and leant into me

"I just want to go home." He whispered. I just held him close.

"Me too, but I want to make sure John's going to be ok first" We both turned to Sherlock and John, who were huddled even closer than we were, and were both crying – Sherlock loud conscious tears and John silent and mournful tears of pain. We moved in sync and joined them on the floor.

It began to rain, and I watched as the crimson blood mixed in with the brown flow of mud and rain water. We were soaked before the ambulance and police arrived, and none of us were sure if we wanted to follow them into the warmth – I certainly didn't. I felt that maybe, if we sat long enough, John's wounds would heal with every drop, that our tears would mingle, and then fade. That everything would clear up with the storm.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 – The Final Chapter

_Please read and review_

John

I woke up in a hospital bed; my arms were almost completely covered with familiar drips. The others stood close to me; I could feel their light touch of their nervous fingertips. John was crying and as was my Sherlock. My beautiful, perfect Sherlock. The other Sherlock just smiled at me, he had not been crying but that didn't bother me at all, in fact I was glad to see that because under no circumstance did I want them to cry about me. Watson sat down gently beside me; the weight of his body was more of a comfort then a pain, despite the dull ache it caused to my side. He held my hand and I felt a similar emotion to one I once felt for Harriet, a sibling love. I was glad to have met John.

"The portal is closing John. We're going to have to go home, but we wanted to wait for you to wake up before we left." He squeezed my hand tightly before continuing "I'm going to miss you old boy, but I'm sure our paths will cross over once again in the future" He told me, leaning over and hugging me close. I felt a tear roll down my face. I felt one from his eyes land on my head. His grip around me tightened, it was so loving and tight it was almost painful. Not that I was complaining, I liked being held close. It was odd, I felt almost like I should be in love with Watson, but I wasn't. I loved him, but I wasn't in love with him. However, I was most certainly was in love with my Sherlock, and although it was John's arms wrapped around me my mind was still slightly on my love. Looking back I couldn't think of a time after meeting Sherlock was when he wasn't on my mind.

"I'm going to miss you, it was like meeting my soul mate when I met you, I don't know what I'll do when I need someone to understand me like you did." I told him, he smiled gently, ruffling my hair. I wished I wasn't in so much pain; if I was not this would have been one of the most tender moments of my life.

"Your relationship will succeed. You have the law on your side" He kissed my forehead, and I noticed Sherlock pouting slightly. My heart soared. I looked back at him and met his sad eyes; I knew he was worried about his own.

"You don't need the law on your side. True love conquers all." I whispered to him. He smiled and stepped back. His Sherlock approached me, smiling warmly

"Good bye Doctor Watson" Holmes smiled, shaking my hand. "I will miss you too, it has been interesting to meet another John, but don't rush into our world just yet" He winked and walked out the door, waiting in the corridor. Sherlock took my hand, I felt sparks shoot almost painfully up my arm

"John, I'm seeing them off, I'll be back after your operation to check on you ok". I nodded, lying back into my bed. I supposed it was the drugs to stop the pain, but I didn't care I was about to undergo an operation. I didn't even bother asking what it was.

Sherlock

I went with them back to the portal; it was still glowing as brightly as ever. But it was a little smaller than before. I took in the smell of opium and was almost tempted to go with them, until John floated back into my mind. When we arrived I turned my attention to Sherlock, forgetting John for a mere too seconds. He smiled at me.

"Well Sherlock I wish we had more time to work together and get to know one and other" He said- sincerely of course "Take good care of John, Watson has grown quite attached to him and I wouldn't like him to be upset" He laughed. I laughed too, but dread still sat low in my stomach. Watson held my shoulder slightly to reassure me. I smiled at him.  
"He'll be fine, and so will you, just let your emotions flow. It's good for you. Trust me I'm a doctor"

When I got back to the hospital John was still in surgery. I was about to sit down and try not to cry about how empty my life would be in case he didn't make it. Now Holmes and Watson were gone, who would I have? All I'd have was Mycroft. I'd killed Moriarty, who did I have to keep me busy? I looked at the doors, and was about to sit down and burst into tears when the doors swung open and John was pushed past me and into his hospital room. A doctor took me aside.

"Seventy percent chance of survival. He's a lucky man, and he received first class aid before the ambulance. Whoever did that should be proud. I made a mental note to tell Watson if we ever met again.

Watson

It had been a week since we had gotten back, and I stood outside Mary's home. I knew what I had to do to help set my life straight again. I told her it was too 'dangerous' to date me, I told her I was on a hit list. She cried, I held her and told her she was better without me. I even cried. But I couldn't be truly sad as I wished I could have been. I was about to go home to my new lover, and I couldn't think of a better thing to return to. I couldn't thank John enough for encouraging me to try, and Holmes and I had been together for four days, three hours and thirty five minutes now. And I knew there would be many many more years of happiness to come. I was very grateful she was understanding though, I would never want to hurt a young lady- especially not one as special as her.

Holmes came rushing into the room with a mirror, through which I could not see myself, but the other John. I smiled and he matched me

"Hello!" He said happily, I looked at Holmes.

"I have invented a mirror we can communicate through" He said gleefully.

"And he and Sherlock haven't shut up for hours!" John laughed.

"How are you?" I asked, and he grinned

"We're getting married!"

"After a week?" I half- yelled, feeling maybe a tad jealous.

"It's been six months for us" He smiled "We're getting married in June!" I tried not to sound sad

"That's great!" Sherlock wrapped his arms around me

"John" He rarely called me by my first name "We'll campaign for our right to get married. And if they don't agree..." He paused then kissed my temple "We'll just spend our lives together anyway." He licked my ear, I groaned.

"I see you're busy" John laughed "I'm planning a wedding, so I am too! Bye, talk to you soon!" He left, putting up a sign saying 'Brb soul mate'. I smiled and leant up to kiss my Holmes. My beautiful, beautiful Holmes.


End file.
